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Taking Remelle as a roommate?
Easily the worst decision Aelin had ever made. Beating out every drunk college story she sincerely hoped her parents had never heard with the ease of a hot knife through butter.
The slamming of the front door jarred Aelin from her coursework, jarred her so thoroughly she was pretty much sat there on the couch shaking from the reverberations of the door slam.
Knowing it was her roommate’s absolute hunk of a boyfriend who had just stormed out, Aelin sighed tiredly, filled with dread, knowing exactly what the remainder of her night would hold. What her tired arms would hold by the end of the night.
A rum-drunk Remelle, who blamed everything on her sweet, quiet boyfriend who only got un-sweet and un-quiet when he and Remelle were in her bedroom.
Thin walls, was all she had to say on the matter. Thin fucking walls.
She would whine ceaselessly about his responsibility and his gentleman-like manners, the fact he actively brought chivalry back from the dead each day with his bare hands after he opened every door, pulled out every chair, and held her hand every second he could.
All the while Aelin would sit there and want to scream at her roommate (who had come to the unfounded conclusion that the two of them were best friends) that she should be grateful to have a boyfriend who did all of that for her and her abusive tendencies, when most men were content to lounge about and contribute nothing.
Instead of hearing whining and crying and groaning from her roommate, all Aelin heard was the rustle of clothes and the small sharp noises of high heels. The distinct clicking and clacking of her roommate’s stilettos came closer, and Aelin turned around to see Remelle smacking her lips together. The shade of red on her lips was so vibrant that Aelin knew she wasn’t leaving the apartment still in a committed relationship with Rowan Whitethorn.
Aelin braced herself for the incoming bitch, but still did a doubletake when she saw Remelle’s outfit for the night. In a top that did little more than cover her nipples and a skirt that did little more than cover her arse (bar the little crease where arse cheek meets thigh meat), Remelle was dressed to give a middle-aged woman a heart attack.
It was enough to maybe even give a younger woman a heart attack.
Aelin gave the obligatory nod, appreciating the outfit for what it was. Which was a massive, neon, flashing cry for help. If Aelin cared for the girl, she would stage an intervention, but the sooner Remelle’s awful behaviour caught up with her, the sooner Aelin would be rid of the awful, awful girl.
“Girl!” Aelin exclaimed, putting on a fake personality that matched Remelle’s pitch for pitch, “If you really want to, you can come and sit with me and we can get hella drunk and bitch about that dick who just left. Can you just imagine the nerve of him, doing all that shit to you—" treating you so good, so sweet, I’ve got a toothache “—a bad apple. That’s what he is, Hun.”
When Aelin made eye contact with Remelle she saw something ugly and violent, and maybe a little cruel and vicious, “Don’t even try, you little slut, you know what you did.” Remelle spat the words at Aelin, continuing to layer her lipstick on, well over the lines of her lips.
Aelin had never been one to take shit, especially not from such a bitch, “And, what, exactly was that. I’m dying to know, Remelle. Enlighten me, please,” Aelin’s words packed a punch, she’d been holding back for so long that she didn’t know what to do with all her anger and distrust, didn’t quite know how to make sure it didn’t all come out in one fell swoop, ending with Remelle punching her.
Remelle pointed a finger at her, “That little stunt you pulled, with the shower and shit. Don’t sit there, pretending to be innocent to me when you stink of the guilt of a homewrecker.” Aelin was pretty sure she had to do something in order to be guilty, but c’est la vie.
“Of course, you’d know the smell so well wouldn’t you, given it sticks to you the same way the clap does. It’s like you don’t know there’s a sexual health clinic two blocks from us. They have free condoms by the box. It was not that hard, love.” Aelin wasn’t usually one to tear down women, but with Remelle she could hardly resist.
Aelin hated the bitchy undertone of her words; she was all about female empowerment and feminism. But people like Remelle, the homewreckers, and the cheaters of the world, for lack of a better word, they were the ones who put a drag on everything Aelin stood for and believed in.
Gods, the sympathy she felt for the girl sometimes. What on Earth had fucked her up so badly that she had ended up like this, completely incapable of seeing a good man for a good man; thinking absolute power to women and none to men was the solution; unable to see beyond her own sphere of guilt and insecurity.
But, if Aelin was being honest, whilst she hadn’t homewrecked, there had definitely been something Aelin had dubbed The Shower Mix Up. It had happened a good few weeks ago, an accident she didn’t regret playing a part in remotely.
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The water of her shower was hot against her back, the thorough jets of water soothing the collected tension in her shoulders. Letting out a slight shudder as the water hit a particularly knotted area of tissue, she ran her hands through her hair.
It hung long and soaking wet down her back. Hitting the curve of her arse, a light brown colour because of the shower but dry it was a shocking shade of blonde. Suds dripped down her tresses, the lemon and mint shampoo she used hanging heavy in the steamy air. Breathing the fragrance in, she felt refreshed.
She ran her hands through her hair again, twisting at the ends slightly, pulling the shampoo from them. She had just begun to apply to her condition, so she had stepped out of the shower spray and stood in the frigid air of the bathroom, there wasn’t even a shower door.
It was that moment when the bathroom door opened wide and loud, slamming against the counter, making a horrible crashing sound. “Remelle,” came a frighteningly quiet voice, brimming with close-kept anger and long-festering hate, “I swear to everything holy that if you do not explain to me — right now — why some crackhead, dickhead popped up on front step claiming I, owe him for the ten grand I, somehow, stole from him in the form of pure fucking cocaine, I will call up every friend you’ve ever made and tell them all that you’ve slept with their partner.”
She was frozen for a moment, and quickly came to the horrible realisation that she and Remelle must look very alike if Rowan had not yet exclaimed in horror and profusely apologised. Rowan wasn’t the kind of guy to take advantage of walking in on a stranger in the shower. So he thought she saw Remelle — though she’d always thought Remelle had a nice arse, so the fact that Rowan thoughts hers was so similar…she’d take it as a compliment.
The quiet, kind, and respectful Rowan Whitethorn. Poor fucking guy.
Turned and poked her head out of the shower and gave him a sad little waving motion and winked, “I might not be Remelle, and have all the answers you need, but, I do make a mean margarita and you, my handsome friend, sound like you need one.”
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It all spiralled from there, she’d exited the shower to find Rowan watching Modern Family reruns on the television, and promptly made him the best margarita he’d ever had (and would ever have). Then, the TV was turned off, alcohol was consumed, and all the nitty gritty secrets of Remelle and Rowan’s relationship were split.
The night didn’t finish until gone two, and it took four rounds of tears, five rounds of margaritas and one entire box of tissues for Aelin to help Rowan reach the healthy, appropriate conclusion that he needed to leave Remelle.
And in turn, Aelin realised she needed to kick Remelle out — because fucking your ex-roommate's ex was one thing, but fucking your roommate’s ex was a whole other hog.
In the end, Aelin didn’t even need to advertise the room, Rowan quickly moved in and helped her convert it into the perfect shared office, and by the end of the next year, they had sprung for a nice house in the suburbs, an engagement ring, and wedding.